dreaming of a world of hate
in which i can be
a spark of miracles
spreading colours everywhere
dipping everyone’s head into a sphere
of wonder and confusion
winning is for losers
i tell them
and
you have to swallow your words
to appear articulate
this world won’t know any flowers
just towers
where they are thrown in
at birth
and kicked out
at twelve
that’s considered as grown-up
in this world
they got beaten inside
and will beat on the streets
until they see me:
the colourful girl
with music on her ears
tears won’t appear at first sight
but they will
sooner or later
when they recognize themselves
as being just a hater
all their previous life
they are just twelve
they can still learn
to earn
the duality of existence
that’s barely black and white
it’s grey most of times
boring, yeah, maybe
but grey also got the best of both worlds
inside of it:
half of black
half of white
maybe one time it’s more darkish grey
and then it’s the bright day’s light
it’s a sight
that they will love to hate
that they will hate to love
those feelings collide
to leave them speechless
at last
and this is
where the colours come in.

        © Dominik Alexander / 2024